Stay
by Nataleia
Summary: "With a jolt to my system, I wake from my nightmare, a scream dying on my lips as I realise where I am. I'm in District 13. I'm safe. safesafesafe, I tell myself." A oneshot of Katniss trying to deal with a hijacked Peeta one night in District 13.


A/N: I own nothing. Literally.

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**Stay**

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Where is he? "Peeta!" I cry. "Peeta!" I only hear another tortured scream. I can see President Snow ahead of me - dripping with venom, surrounded by vicious trackerjakers. The buzz is deafening and I throw my hands to my ears to drown out the mutts. I want to run, but the sickening smell of roses pins me down, assaulting my senses. "Peeta!" I try once more, but the screams have stopped and a slow, steady ache begins to spread throughout my body. _He's gone_, I think. I sink to the ground, my head swimming. _Peeta_...

With a jolt to my system, I wake from my nightmare, a scream dying on my lips as I realise where I am. I'm in District 13. I'm safe. _safesafesafe_, I tell myself. I look across the room to see my mother and Prim still sleeping peacefully; Buttercup curled up beside them. But something's missing. I look around in my sleepy haze and realise.

Peeta...

Tears threaten to spill over, my chest constricting. Usually, by now, Peeta would be here, holding me and comforting me as he did before the Quarter Quell. But he isn't coming this time. His room is on the other side of District 13 through a maze of clinically white corridors. There's no way he could hear me from there. But that's not the only reason. I close my eyes against the last words Peeta said to me.

_Well, you're a piece of work, aren't you?_

Those are the words Peeta had said to me a week ago, and are still so most prominent in my mind. That cold laugh. I want to block it from my mind, more than anything. I thought things would be easier when he returned. I never imagined he could act this way. During that moment when I had first saw him, I had felt almost happy, something that had been lacking in my life since I came to District 13. But Peeta had made his feelings completely clear when he tried to strangle me. President Snow has hijacked him and now he hates me. This is definitely different to how I imagined it.

But then I think back to this afternoon, when Annie thanked Peeta for her wedding cake. He had seemed to genuine in his reply – almost normal again. I grimace in the dark of my room. No, his words weren't exactly directed at me, but it didn't matter. And I know that if he was capable of his old self then, then the old Peeta was definitely still there - somewhere. The only thing that stands is the question of how and when this old Peeta would resurface.

_Old Peeta,_ I think. I try to remember who that is. The boy with the bread. The sweet, charming boy who I hardly knew, who was thrown into a viscous arena with no hope of survival. The one who could comfort anyone, no matter how troubled they were. But now he's the one in need of help, suddenly, and I have no idea how to do that. My nerves are twisted in a mass of confusion.

With a restless sigh, I leave my bed. There's only one way this will happen; I need to talk to Peeta. I turn on the lamp and check the time. _11:49. _At this late hour, I'd be surprised if Peeta was still awake, but I have a feeling he will be. _It's worth the chance_, I think to myself.

I slip on my shoes, and make my way through the corridors of District 13 until I come to Peeta's door, jarring it open.

My heart jumps slightly at the sight of him. He's sat on the adjacent side of the room, on a ledge beneath a window at the top of the wall. His eyes are closed and his face is tilted up at the moonlight which is softly playing on his features. He holds a piece of rope in his hands, manically knotting it.

He hears the door and his eyes open and come to settle on me, confusion lining his forehead. For a quiet moment, we stare at each other, Peeta still knotting the rope in his hands. Then he seems to realise who I am and sits up quickly, dropping and rope, eyes wide.

"Hi," I say softly.

"Hi." Peeta's eyes narrow but he doesn't move.

"Did Finnick give you that?" I ask, gesturing to the rope on the floor.

He nods mutely.

An awkward silence ensues, and I take this moment to really look at his face. He looks a lot older than his seventeen years. Dark circles play under his eyes, his hair is unkempt and gashes cover the lower half of his neck. He is thinner than he'd ever been in District 12, and my worry begins to consume me.

"You had a nightmare," he says. It's not a question.

It's obvious he's been having nightmares too. "Yes," I say.

Peeta scoffs, "That's why you're here." There's bitterness in his voice, but that's only to be expected. He still hates me.

"I just thought we could both use some company."

"I'm trying to sleep."

My eyebrows draw together; Peeta's obviously not trying to sleep. "But you're not actually asleep."

Peeta sighs, "Fine."

I take a few steps towards him, but I won't sit down. I'm only a few feet away from him when I stop, and I clasp my hands together nervously before I speak. "I need to talk to you," I say, but then I see the tap attached to Peeta's arm, the distant look in his eyes. "You've been tapping morphling!"

"Go tell the nurse," he growls. He massages the point where the tap enters his skin and scowls.

I think of the morphlings from District 6, rendered hollow by their addiction, painting pink swirls on each other's faces. I try not to grimace. "I need to talk to you about the Capitol."

Peeta's eyes are wide, "What about it?"

"You," I say, "All the Capitol has put you through. You need to put it behind you, you need to start moving forward. I know how much it must hurt for you, and for Annie and Johanna. As long as you stay angry, the pain won't go away."

"What do you know about pain?" Peeta's voice is low and angry.

"The pain's not real," My voice is louder now. "It's the venom, it's the Capitol!"

"Then why is it in here? Why can I remember it? There are things I remember and they're not real and then there's other things that are...," his voice is tortured. "I don't know what to believe."

I deliberately lower my voice, trying to calm Peeta. "You need to trust me."

"I can't"

"You can't let the Capitol do this to you," I insist.

I go to speak again, but suddenly his hands are gripping my shoulders, fingers digging painfully into my skin. He is no longer seated. He starts shaking me violently, my mouth falls open in a wordless protest.

Peeta's eyes are manic. "Why did it have to be me?" he bellows. "Why was I the one tortured by the Capitol? What did I do? You're the Mockingjay! You're the one they want!"

He is still shaking me, but I have no voice. I have never seen him lose control like this, and I'm terrified.

Suddenly, Peeta stops, eyes wide and shocked. "Oh my God," he breathed. He pulled me against him, holding me desperately. "I'm sorry," he whispers into my hair. "God, Katniss, I'm so sorry." His voice cracks with unshed tears.

I stand motionless, unable to breathe. I can hear the old Peeta and I save it, drinking it in. I feel his hand cradle the back of my head.

"Katniss, I don't want to hurt you," he chokes. His voice becomes gentler.

I swallow hard and lean closer into his chest. "It's okay, Peeta."

Then, suddenly, he pushes me away, taking two steps back. His fists are clenched, turning a ghostly white. "Sorry," he mutters, looking down at the floor. He's shaking again.

I watch his expressive face, trying to discern what he might be thinking. Tears are threatening to spill over. I know he can't help the way he's feeling. The venom is gone, but the memories are still so vivid. Those artificial memories made by the Capitol of me killing his family and pretending to love him.

_Well... maybe not so artificial._

Peeta begins to pace the room madly. "I can't stay here," he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

I'm still shaking, but somehow my voice doesn't show it. "Peeta, please, calm down."

He doesn't respond, only quickens his pace and shakes his head frantically.

I need to relax. There's a lamp next to Peeta's bed and I give it a soft whack, dousing the room in a soft glow, illuminating both me and Peeta.

Across the room, I find the bathroom and turn on the tap in the sink. I splash my face with some cold water and take a refreshing breath, holding a towel to my face and replacing back next to the sink. I return back to Peeta.

He is now sat on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his face in his hands. Guilt churns within me; he can't blame himself for something he can't help.

I kneel by his side, placing my hands on his knees. Peeta stares at them, perplexed and a long moment holds until he takes them in his own hands. He studies them with his own; taking each of my fingers between his thumb and index, rubbing gently. I stay quiet, sensing there is something more he wants to say. His breathing slows and evens out and he interlaces his fingers with mine.

"I can't do this anymore, Katniss. If feels like hell," he whispers harshly.

"I know, Peeta." I try to say something soothing, but this is all I can manage. I can feel the guilt beginning to eat through me.

"Every time I close my eyes I see these horrible images," he continues "and the nightmares are just..." he trails off, biting his lip.

"It'll get better."

Peeta's eyes find my own. "But it will never be the same, will it?"

"No," I say, "but that doesn't mean they won't be okay again." I smile, trying to lighten the mood.

A long moment passes and Peeta's expression is now pensive. "Why do I love you?" He closes his eyes.

"What?" I managed, my voice catching in my throat.

Peeta's brow furrows, his features twisting into a pained expression. He brings my hands to his lips and grazes them gently. "I want to remember."

My head is swimming. I glance down at our hands, thinking what a sorely missed sight this is. "I don't know." I admit.

"Oh," he says finally, eyes still fixed on me. "Do you love me?"

I'm having trouble breathing. I feel as though I'm back in the arena, and the toxic gas from the clock is stealing my breath. Tears start to roll down my cheeks and I desperately try to contain them. I close my eyes and shake my head, unable to compose an answer.

"Katniss," Peeta's free hand cups my cheek. "Talk to me," he breathes. "I need to remember."

I try to ignore the warmth spreading over my entire body, emanating from his touch.

I had been certain that Peeta had no romantic feelings left for me, after the way the Capitol had tortured him. During my time in District 13, I had effectively let go of any possibility that Peeta and I would see each other again. At that time, I believed I had made the right choice, but right now I am so confused; why am I reacting so strongly to his presence? _Do I love him?_

"I - I'm sorry," I start. I lean closer into his hand. "I know what this must look like."

"Hm," Peeta's response is pained.

I open my eyes, looking up at him. "I'm just so glad you're back; glad they couldn't break you." I grimace, knowing that what I've said isn't completely true.

We sit in silence for a while. I want to ask what I can do, but I know there is nothing I can do beyond what I am doing already - which isn't very much anyway.

Peeta's voice is much lower when he next speaks. "Did it work for you?" he asked.

"What?"

He exhales. "When they tried to break you."

I squeeze his hands, knowing he is talking from fear of losing me also. "Yes," I say.

Peeta laughs gently. "I thought you didn't love me," he jests. "You're more confused than me."

We laugh in unison, and I hear the old Peeta shining through once again. I inhale deeply, preparing myself for what I want to say.

"When I realised they were using you against me," I start "I tried so hard to cope, to only focus on getting you back. But I thought of Finnick, and how it had broken him so completely. I couldn't —" I choked, trying to compose myself.

"Shh," Peeta hushes, dipping his face closer to my own.

I clear my throat. "I had treated you so terribly, and I knew that if the Capitol did kill you, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself." I wait a few seconds. "The Capitol's plan had worked, so they sedated me and put me in the hospital until you returned." Just that thought makes me want to curl up and hide. I can't go through that again. He can't.

Peeta sits back, assessing what I've just said. "It doesn't make sense," he says, his eyes focusing on a point somewhere else in the room.

I nod. "I know."

Peeta's gaze grows inwards. Tears began to pool at his lashes and sobs begin to wrack through his body. I've never seen him break down so entirely. It's like one of our nightmares, except this is so real and vivid and heart-breaking. I do all I can to comfort him; hushing him and reassuring him.

Neither of us spoke as Peeta's breathing begins to calm, his sobs becoming almost non-existent. "I won't let them hurt you again, Peeta."

He stared at me then with an expression full of longing. He continues to hold my hands, still massaging my fingers. I found myself being drawn into his eyes, leaning my face closer to his, until there was barely s space between us. Neither one of us says anything. But it feels so right, as though time is standing still for us. I don't care how confused we are - I need this. Peeta needs this. We take our time to savour each other's lips. I hadn't realised how much I've needed this until now. I feel so blissfully content - this is how Annie and Finnick must feel.

In a heartbeat, Peeta pulls away, a hollow feeling beginning to spread through my veins.

"Peeta," I breathe.

"Katniss," he smiles.

I barely hear him, but I open my eyes in the darkness and see his eyes sparkling.

This is what I've missed.

He brushes a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "We should sleep."

The last thing I want to do is cause Peeta anymore pain than he already suffered. He needs to rest. So I pull back, stand up with shaking knees, and ready myself to leave for my room. "Goodnight, Peeta," I manage.

But Peeta shakes his head, tugging at my wrist. "Stay."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"Peeta —"

"Yes," his voice is much firmer now. "I don't care what the guards say. If they want me to get better they're going to have to let you stay." Peeta's eyes soften. "I won't hurt you again, not tonight."

I think of my mother and Prim, wonder if they'll be worried when they realise I'm gone. But they won't, because they've got so many patients to see to in the morning. I smile, thinking of Prim helping in the wards; she's grown so much.

I am still reluctant, but before I can voice my thoughts, Peeta has pulled back the covers and swings his legs up onto the bed and I curl up beside him. He removes the tap from his arm, wrapping both around my waist. I sigh, contented; I know this night will never last as long as I need it to. I ease us both back into the pillow and pull the sheets around us. Peeta sighs, pulling me close.

I bury my face in Peeta's neck, not quite kissing him there. "Real or not real?" I ask, a smile playing on my lips.

"No fair," Peeta laughs, "I'm the only one who can ask that."

After it is quiet for a long time, I open my eyes. I smile at the blurred image of Peeta sleeping peacefully beside me - knowing it will only last until the morphling wears off. I drift off into a dreamless sleep, truly not knowing if this is real or not.

FIN

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I haven't written anything creative in two years. Feedback is always appreciated.


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